Pteridophyta
by Sugary Snicket
Summary: Poison Ivy muses. Just a short little descriptive piece. :)


**_A/N: Wow, been a bit since I wrote any Batman fic._**

**_I wrote this short little vignette during a rainy day while sitting next to a garden area and it slowly became a story about Poison Ivy. It's really just something to practice descriptive writing, but I HAVE always wanted to write the Flowery Femme Fatale… I hope you enjoy this regardless._**

**_By the way, for those wondering, "Pteridophyta" is the phylum of Kingdom Plantae that includes ferns, which grow in shady areas. Ergo…_**

* * *

**Pteridophyta**

The rain came down in little rivulets that morning, trickling over the garden's broad leaves, dripping from curious tendrils of vines. The enormous sycamores sheltered the shade garden with their branches, and all the foliage beneath, the ferns and soft mosses and English ivy, grew together in a lush carpet, a bed for Mother Nature herself.

Amongst such greenery rested such a figure, a supine Venus with luxurious red waves. The rainwater dripped from the tree leaves above, landing gently on her bare skin, flowing over and across her soft curves like an ardent lover's fingers, trickling softly between her bare breasts. Her wet hair lay splayed across the moss below, pooling beneath her head in a luxurious pillow.

Her eyes remained closed, and she soaked in the atmosphere's sound. The light patter of rain on the tree bark; the soft rustling of leaves in the wind.

She did love a gentle rain like this. Of course she, being a plant herself, loved the sun even more for its nourishing light, but the rain brought precious water, and she had not gotten the privilege of nearly enough of that lately. Not since her escape from Arkham three days ago.

The rain let up a bit, and her chlorophyll green eyes flicked open. She so rarely got a moment's rest and it wasn't often she got to sit alone and listen to her children. The slight motion of tree branches in the wind, the soft creaking of woody vines, the sensuous scents of flowers and the gentle brushing of fern fronds against her bare legs – all were voices she heard and understood, all rejoicing at her return. And when her children were happy, so too was she.

She rolled onto her side, silently thanking the mosses beneath her for allowing her a place to rest, and peered into the nearby pond. Cattails grew here, and lotus blossoms, floating placidly in the water with their roots trailing gently underneath them. Their soft perfume drifted upwards, hovering ethereally in the humid air.

She trailed her finger through the water idly, sending little ripples through the glassy surface. The lotus plants sent expressions of their joy in the form of pheromones, and she smiled as she sensed them.

No, it was not often that she got to spend so much time with her children.

Not when her home city was all concrete, steel, and smog. Not when so many humans destroyed such beauty.

Not when she so often heard her children cry out in pain, only to fall silent.

God, how she hated humans. Disturbed creatures thinking nothing of the green life they destroyed day in and day out. But it was, at times, prudent to deal with their kind, and at the very least _some_ of them still showed the respect that Kingdom Plantae was due. That was, of course, not the issue.

The problem was, there just weren't nearly enough good humans in Gotham to make any sort of difference, not to her.

Well. It was hardly their fault, after all. Look at how they cowered before anything even slightly more powerful than themselves. It was only natural that on some level, they feared the very earth they stood upon. They were even afraid of one of their own species dressed in a silly little bat costume, for Gaia's sake!

Yet it still amazed her how stupid they were. They could build incredible things and make amazing advancements in the sciences, but they, the men in particular, still fell victim to their hormones. It was… amusing, to say the least, watching them fall one by one to her charms, to her irresistible siren's call of pheromones. She never bedded them of course, the very thought of such bestiality disgusted her, but they did make fine food for her more… carnivorous children.

She smirked and watched the ripples in the water dissipate. If such behavior as that made her a wicked man-eater, then so be it. It was their own fault, not hers.

After all, every human should know better than to play with Poison Ivy.


End file.
